


The Edge of Oblivion

by osmalic



Category: B'T X
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-03
Updated: 2006-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osmalic/pseuds/osmalic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aramis brings her concerns on Rafaello to Misha. (for the prompt: "rocks")</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Edge of Oblivion

Misha stands at the edge and does not feel afraid. He looks at the abyss and coldly stares down into the darkness. Around the glass, the guards and scientists watch as their leader, this man in a boy's body, lean over the gaping hole and glare at the chasm before him. "Is it not ready?" he shouts. "When will Rafaelo be ready?"

Because none of the scientists are brave enough to answer him, Aramis steps into the container and answers, "He has been ready for a long time, your Highness. We move with your command."

Misha throws rocks, watching them disappear. There is no telltale sound of it hitting the ground, only the squish and the low growl from deep below. "It does not seem big."

"He's growing bigger at every time." Aramis seems to be choosing her words carefully. Misha glares up at her—angry, envious, and impatient. "Sire, Rafaelo is growing at an alarming rate and if we cannot control him..."

Misha throws another rock into the hole. There is another growl. It does not scare him. "Rafaelo is a machine, brought up through research and raised in the depths of a hole within the Gobi Desert, surrounded by nothing but sand and stone."

"And angry," Aramis says, but remembers to add, "sir. He is blood and brains, still a B'T. And too much blood as his food has contaminated his control system—"

Another rock thrown. The growling is louder. Misha wonders when this will all end. _"'It',_ General Aramis. Rafaelo is an _'it'._ A machine controlled by our wills, nothing more."

He watches this subordinate of his in her cool and composed state, hidden by large capes and a low cap as per required. He watches her step forward, boots hitting the weakening ground. Perhaps they'll fall into the chasm below.

"Sir," the general says, voice urgent, "perhaps an emergency plan would be wise..."

If Misha throws another rock into the void, would the monster eat it? Would it explode, would it kill? Would it slither like a snake, or erupt like a volcano? Would it spew out the bones of animals and people it ate, or vomit the rocks he had been throwing? The growls bore him, this life bores him, and all he does now is throw rocks into a hole full of monster as if he is skipping stones on the lake of his childhood.

He holds up a hand to stop Aramis' babble. "I understand your concern." He wonders if he should throw her in instead, but her loyalty is needed. He throws his final rock. "Make a note of it, and I expect it sent to my computer in the morning." He knows she is about to say something else, but he turns away and she doesn't. He expects she saluted behind his back.

Later, he sits at Nasha's side and brings out the rocks from his pockets. "Would you catch them?" he whispers to his sister. "Would you fall?"


End file.
